Leaving
the Tools Behind
By
Jeannine Patané • May 2004
Sometimes I get too involved with my home and the pleasure of living in Alaska. This past spring, when my involvement turned into an obsession, I knew it was time to take a long break Outside. I made the decision to sign my home over to a friend, and then I began packing my most important belongings in a 1993 Toyota Turcel. If the items couldn’t fit in the car, then they were not important and would stay behind. Packing was a challenging task, because all my possessions were important at the moment; I wanted to bring everything with me.
The day of departure from Alaska.
The car and its holdings are all of the material possessions
I own, and I am thankful for everything I have.
The
compact car was stuffed to the roof with boxes and bags. It was pointless
to use the rear view mirror. In fact the car was so packed, the tire
wells were resting just two inches from the top of the rear tires. I
was aware of the unpaved and frost-heaved roads from previous road trips
through Alaska and Canada, and I knew the car wouldn’t make it
with the excess weight. Something had to stay behind. I evaluated the
weight of everything in the car and what could be easily replaced. My
tools were the heaviest and they were replaceable—it was tough
decision to make because they would help me get work. By pulling the
tools out of the trunk I lightened the load, yet created an unorthodox
approach to my future employment.
One
of the greatest advantages in leaving things behind is my load becomes
lighter and less worrisome. What I need will come to me, and what I
don’t need I don’t have the burden of dragging around. Instead
of worrying about my personal possessions, I gave most items away or
left things behind with the thought of never seeing them again including
the home I obsessed about. Will I ever return? I don’t know the
answer to that, but I do know that now all I have to worry about is
the car, the items in it and myself. The less baggage we have, the lighter
we walk through life.
